Anduin Wrynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bythelight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2021-09-10 12:33 am
bythelight) wrote in deercountry2021-09-10 12:33 am
[ ACTIVE / CLOSED ]
Who: Anduin Llane Wrynn & friends both new and old
What: TDM overflow, Event Shenanigans and some other general starters. Come find me on the plotting post if you want to plan something!
When: September
Where: Various!
Content Warnings: Grief, blood ritual, dead parent thoughts, heavy regrets.
ARIADNE (EVENT) | CATRA (EVENT) | FAOLAN (TDM) | FLYNN FAIRWIND (TDM) | MICHAEL (EVENT) |
What: TDM overflow, Event Shenanigans and some other general starters. Come find me on the plotting post if you want to plan something!
When: September
Where: Various!
Content Warnings: Grief, blood ritual, dead parent thoughts, heavy regrets.
ARIADNE (EVENT) | CATRA (EVENT) | FAOLAN (TDM) | FLYNN FAIRWIND (TDM) | MICHAEL (EVENT) |
no subject
When she stumbles on him now, playing in the dirt like a child, she almost turns around. Almost, almost, almost. She doesn't, however, because she knows that'll cast the wrong impression. As if he'd done something wrong or as if she were bothered by his very presence. That's not the case. He's weird and clingy, but she's not bothered by him.
"What are you doing?" she asks, pressing the knuckles of one hand against her hip.
His words go unacknowledged.
Melog steps away from her side to approach, lowering their head in expectation of a pat. They look the same as they ever have, although possibly a bit larger in size today.
no subject
"I'm told this month is considered a month of sacrifice, in Trench. People here bury something that represents the past, as a promise to themselves to move on. Apparently if the ritual is performed correctly a flower will grow."
It probably all sounds silly to Catra. He has the suspicion everything he says and does sounds that way, to her. Reaching out he rests a hand on Melong's head, rubbing gently between the creature's ears. There's something soothing about the action, and it eases a knot in his chest.
"I thought I may as well give it a try. We've been brought to this place, led to it by the powers here. The more we understand it, the better chance we have of surviving."
no subject
From this close, it's obvious that the creature has been washed very recently. They smell floral like soap, almost as if someone felt the need to aggressively clean them after their squid adventures.
"I heard about something like that," Catra states, folding her arms across her chest. She flicks her gaze from his face to his hands then to the sash folded up neatly against the ground. Admittedly, she's interested to know if something like that might work or if they were just getting fed some dumb nonsense. It easily felt like it could be either or.
She steps a little closer, moving to crouch down nearby but not too close to him.
"What are you burying for this then?"
no subject
"It's -- part of my uniform, I suppose."
He can't think of a better way to describe it, without giving far too much away. No doubt Shaw would recommend he doesn't go around advertising his exact title, even if so far it means nothing to any of the locals and he's yet to see any Horde soldiers.
"I've spent a long time trying to live up to it, trying not to disappoint people."
Difficult when those around him all strive for different goals.
"yet to see any Horde soldiers."
She knows his type.
Catra scoffs.
"Your uniform?"
She flicks her finger towards the folded up piece of fabric resting nearby, gesturing to it as if there were something immediately obvious about it that would make his statement questionable.
"You don't look like the military type, Blondie. School uniform or something?" she continues to ask, poking at it just a little further. She knows that isn't how it works, that anyone can get swept up into a unit, that it isn't always a close, but Anduin. . . just feels too soft.